


Finders Keepers

by Jacrispea



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Deputy | Judge joins Project at Eden's Gate, F/M, Jealousy, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyseed (Far Cry), Rough Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacrispea/pseuds/Jacrispea
Summary: What would have happened if the brothers had romanced the deputy before the arrest?
Relationships: Jacob Seed/Reader, John Seed/Reader
Comments: 53
Kudos: 246





	1. Chapter 1

"Another double please, Mary."

You pushed a bill across the counter, as you leaned on an elbow and glanced around at the usual Friday night crowd; all had become familiar to you since arriving in Hope County. 

"There ya go, darlin. Take it you're not driving home tonight?" Mary asked, exchanging the bill for a glass of dark rum. 

"No, but I'm not staying late. I actually have to work tomorrow morning."

With a quick nod, you grab your glass and saunter to the small table you've reserved in the corner of the bar, away from the crowd and conversation. All you needed was a drink and to people watch for a bit. The walls of your one room cabin were growing old and the air, stale inside. This was a quick escape from the loneliness that had come to plague you since relocating here. 

Sliding into the chair as it wobbled below you, you drew a long sip of rum; hissing as the liquor touched your tongue. You swirled the glass in your hands, watching the ice cubes chip as they tumbled together. Sighing, you leaned back and let your gaze sweep the room once more. A small crowd was gathering in the far corner; it was karaoke night again. Two women stood at the arcade machine, hands enthusiastically pointing to the screen. At the bar, you recognized the owner of the aviation school and a man with a tattoo on his forearm. You stared at the crudely drawn flames before the movement of the front door drew your attention. 

John Seed glided through the door, coat flapping behind him in the outside breeze. As the door closed behind him, he brushed a loose strand back to the rest of his perfectly coiffed hair and smirked as he approached the bar and glanced at the men sitting there. You watched as he nodded and said a few words before bringing his attention to Mary May. The man with the tattoo rolled his eyes and made a gagging motion to the other as they both watched John lean over the counter and all but bat his eyelashes at her. 

Their response hadn't surprised you, having met him once during a visit to his ranch in the early days of your assignment to the county - noise complaint or some nonsense, you couldn't remember - but it was in that short amount of time that you had learned three things about John. He was charming. He was handsome. And he was utterly fucking aware of both. 

Deciding it was time to mind your own business, you turned your attention back to the glass, getting lost in your thoughts. Tonight was not going as planned and if you had to admit it, you were starting to get restless. Yes, this would be your last drink. 

"Deputy, it's nice to see you off duty."

You looked up quickly, startled at the voice above you, to see John smiling warmly. He held a glass of what appeared to be whiskey with a rind of citrus swimming amongst the ice cubes. 

"Mr. Seed. Haven't seen you here before," you commented politely. 

"John, please," he insisted, holding a palm up in protest. Glancing behind him quickly, he nodded to the chair opposite you. "Mind if I sit or are you expecting company?"

"Oh, I.. company cancelled last minute," you lied. You waved a hand to the chair, feeling the wave of uneasiness wash through you but not being able to think quickly enough to come up with an excuse.

John's smile widened as he sat gracefully, shimmying out of his coat and letting it rest behind him. He rested his elbows on the table and held the glass between both hands, leaning towards you. "Ah yes, we've both been stood up it seems. My brother Jacob was supposed to meet me for a quick drink." 

"He cancelled on you?"

"Mhm. He never does seem to have time to relax. I suppose I should consider myself lucky for that, but I worry," he admitted, before he seemed to remember where he was. "How about you?"

"Friend from work."

He nodded slowly and brought his sapphire eyes to yours, watching you with the same intensity he had the last time you met. "If I may be candid for a moment, I can't picture you and the other deputies… here. Together."

"Is it that unbelievable to imagine me with friends?" you asked, clutching your chest jokingly. In truth, you weren't sure yourself if they would join you, had you extended the invite. 

"No, no, my dear," John chuckled lightly. He reached forward and ran a finger across your knuckle as he continued. You notices his skin was soft as silk. "You just seem much more… how should I put this? Approachable? Laid back perhaps."

John raised his glass and clinked it against yours, smiling widely. "Let's get you another drink."

\---

"But he does own them though?"

John laughed as he swayed into you, holding you for support. "Of course he owns shirts!"

You slapped at his arm and wheezed as you tried catching your breath amidst the fits of laughter. "Stop!! I've just honestly…. he never wears them. He runs a church. Put a shirt on for fuck's sake!"

As you both stumbled to the SUV with its tinted windows and chrome rims, parked up the road from the Spread Eagle, John stopped abruptly and placed a hand on the hood. He turned to you and shook his hair that now tumbled across his forehead. "We're in no position to drive."

"Mm," you agreed, looking around. He had parked on the outskirts of town and of course there was no one else around. "I'm used to the city. Where are the cabs?!"

John opened the back door of the vehicle and waved a hand to the leather interior. When you didn't move from your spot, he nodded towards it. "We can wait in here. I'll call someone to grab us."

You pushed past him quickly and scrambled into the back, eager to warm up from the cool night air. Climbing over the seat and settling on the far end, allowing John some space, you laughed again as he plopped down awkwardly on the seat next to you and closed the door. He turned to you as he laid his head to the back of the seat and flashed that wicked grin that had been making you weak all night. 

"I've enjoyed your company, deputy."

"Me too. I mean, I didn't think I would. I didn't think you'd even come talk to me. Truthfully you're a bit int…intimidating."

John leaned closer, placing a hand over yours. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just… a bit dizzy."

"Yes, well you did have a fair amount to drink. We both did," he admitted. John pushed closer on the seat as you laid your still spinning head against his shoulder. Your fingers traced over the planes on his jacket as he watched you. "I like to fly."

"I can see that. John…"

"Yes?"

"You've been nicer to me than anyone else here has. Thanks," you said softly. It was the truth, as hard as it was to admit. Your coworkers would all but spit at the mention of the name Seed, but you couldn't understand why. Sure, his family was strange, and John was pushy, but he had asked about you all night and let you ramble about your life. He had taken the time to get to know you when no one else had. 

"My beautiful girl," John whispered, reaching for your chin and tilting your face to his. "Don't thank me. This is the beginning of a friendship afterall."

You gazed up into his eyes, noticing a sadness that hadn't been there earlier. It was one that you wanted desperately to sooth. You could blame it on your intoxication later, but in that moment you couldn't refrain from reaching up and grabbing at the back of his hair. Pulling him down to you, you latched onto his lips with a desperation you hadn't known you were capable of.


	2. Chapter 2

"Right there," you instructed, panting against the coarse hair of his beard. John thrust into you again, burying his cock completely as you closed your eyes and breathed him in; the mixing of expensive cologne and clean sweat on his skin becoming intoxicating. "P-please.."

"Fuck," he growled, burying his face in your hair. His strokes lost their pacing and became erratic as his body tensed between your legs. When he moaned again, you pushed him back sharply from your body, causing him to stare at you wide eyed. "What are you doing?"

"Taking over," you rasped, finally pushing him up enough to sit. 

After losing balance in the small space between you, you managed to straddle his slender hips and sink down the length of his shaft as you both let out a pleasured moan. John's hands were on you immediately, wrapping around your waist and settling on your ass as his manicured fingernails dug into your skin. Every movement encouraged your hips to roll against him, picking up speed; the feeling that had been growing in your lower abdomen, now returning again. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, trying to block out the noise from your mind and focus on your breathing. 

"Cum for me," he growled once more, bringing his lips to the column of your throat. Soon his soft kisses were replaced with teeth and the tension you had been holding was released in a flurry of curses and moans. John grunted as he watched you come undone around his cock. "That's it. Scream for me, deputy." 

Having lost all sense of shame - both from the liquor and the orgasm that rocked through your body - you called his name into the emptiness of the back seat as he held you still, forcing you to hover over his lap. From below you, John brought his hips from the seat to hammer away at you with rough strokes that left you breathless. 

"John," you pleaded as he fucked you with everything he had. "I can't take much more…"

"You will," he hissed sternly, looking up to you with a darkened expression. "You'll take whatever I give you…"

His eyes widened suddenly as his body convulsed against you; hands now releasing their hold on your hips. Quickly, you sank down on top of him as he pulled you to his shuddering body. A half a minute passed before he finally kissed your shoulder and nuzzled against your collarbone. His voice came low and lazy. 

"Fuck."

"Mm," you agreed, resting your cheek to his forehead. Closing your eyes, you relaxed and enjoyed the tender way he stroked your back as he held you close. 

\---

"Rook, I really hope you're there cause I gotta hightail it out of here soon," Staci sighed loudly into the answering machine. The ancient thing had been left behind by the previous owners when you moved in and was just now being used for the first time. Blinking, you groaned and rolled to your side to see the alarm next to you. 

8:37 a.m.

"Shit," you cursed, jumping quickly from your bed and running to the phone. You picked up the receiver quickly, catching him grumbling on the other end. "Stace, I'm so sorry. I overslept."

"By an hour."

"I know, I know. Just let me get ready and I'll be right there. Think you can cover for me 'til then?"

The phone crackled, cutting off the majority of his words, to which (judging by his tone) you were happy for. You apologized once more and set the phone down as you started racing to get washed up and dressed in your uniform. A quick brush of your hair and teeth, a swipe of deodorant and you were out the door. It wasn't until you were safely in your beat up and rusted out Honda that you realized your head was spinning from the headache that was surely proof of your fun the night prior. 

"Oh fuck," you muttered, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. The sparkle of John's blue eyes flashed through your mind, reminding you of your one night stand. Swallowing deeply, you searched your memories until the answer formed clearly in your mind: The hunger in his eyes, the bruises were now sure you felt on your hips and the sweet soft spoken words that tumbled from his lips as he held you afterwards. 

If it weren't for your coworkers and their bold opinions of him, you'd have thought nothing of it. But something about the way Joey in particular had warned you of him, made you feel the worst sense of shame and guilt. A quick wave of anxiety washed over you as you gripped the wheel and concentrated on the road. 

This was going to be a long day. 

Finally pulling into the station with a cloud of dust billowing behind your wheels, you threw the car in park and jogged inside, meeting Nancy's wide smile as you ran past her at the front desk. 

"Morning, Nanc!" you called back over your shoulder, glancing back as the older woman held up a mug in her hand. 

"Fresh coffee in the break room, my dear," she called back. 

Rounding the corner, you groaned as you saw Staci hunched over his desk, cell phone in hand. He tapped at the screen with one hand, pointing a finger to the mug at the edge of his desk with the other. Without looking up, he spoke quickly as he pushed back from the desk. The sound of the metal legs scrapping the old tiled floor rang through the room. "Fresh cup for you."

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that," you told him, finally taking a deep breath as you stopped short of his desk. "I can't believe I forgot to set the alarm."

"You're lucky it wasn't Joey in duty. You know how cranky she is after a night shift," he said flatly, finally tucking his phone in his back pants pocket. His eyes widened when he finally took in the sight of you. "You look like shit, Rook."

"Yeah, thanks for that…"

"Late night?"

Staci pulled on his coat, patting his front pockets until he found what he was looking for and fished out his keys. Before you were able to reply, he placed a quick hand on your shoulder and brushed past you on his way out. 

You sighed in disappointment. It had been three months since you had started working at the station and still, no one took the time to really listen or get to know you. Not a day went by where you didn't question your motives for moving up north and away from the bustle of the city you were used to. Back then, the noise had stung at every one of your nerves but now… it's absence stung even worse. 

The only person who seems to even remotely care for your existence, was now just a clouded memory in the form of a splitting headache. As you took a quick sip of coffee and walked slowly to your desk, a thought sprung to mind. You mulled it over, watching the computer monitor as if the answer might leap from the screen. It was against policy to pull files unless the reason was warranted. 

"Fuck it," you mumbled, setting the mug on the cracked varnish of your wooden desk. The thing was older than you, no doubt. You plopped down on the padded desk chair and let your fingers fly nimbly over the keyboard until you finally found what you were looking for. 

There, John's young face and brilliant eyes looked back from the photo in his file. 

"Well John, let's see what all this fuss is about, shall we?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Mornin' Rook," Earl chirped. His voice cracked through the silence in the station, forcing you to quickly close the file you had been obsessing over for the past two hours. With John's face disappearing from your screen, you forced a smile as he passed you on his way to his office. 

"Sheriff," you greeted weakly. Your voice escaped in a low shaky tone, forcing you to clear your throat and try again. "Nice day out there."

"No complaints here," he agreed as he slid his office door shut behind him. You glanced around the bullpen in which yours and the other deputies' desks had been filed and nodded to no one in particular. You weren't sure what you were hiding exactly, especially after the laundry list of complaints you read in John's file; would anyone care? From your research this morning, either every citizen in Hope County was in on some elaborate prank (out to get John for some petty reason or another) or they were being truthful. Which would be bad news for you since it meant one thing. 

John Seed was not to be trusted.

\---

Over the next few days, the county remained somewhat quiet and mostly peaceful. Other than the usual noise complaint from "Boshaw Manor" or a speeding ticket here or there, you spent the majority of your time sifting through the remainder of John's file or parked in the cruiser on the side of the road, drinking too much coffee.

Today was the exception. A complaint had been filed against the Seed family regarding a piece of property the previous owner claimed had been taken from them. Since the other deputies seemed to have lost their patience in dealing with the siblings, you were left to accompany Sheriff Whitehorse to the Seed Ranch; a task that left you with a heavy feeling of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. 

"Just let me do the talking. John's a bit of a smooth talker but I've dealt with him before. I know how to handle it," Earl assured you as he knocked on the heavy door at the entrance of his home. He adjusted his wide brimmed hat as he watched you for compliance. You nodded and stood quietly, waiting for the door to open. 

"Sheriff? I was wond…"

Your words were cut short as the door swung open with a soft creak to expose John's brilliant white smile. His crisp grey shirt would scream formality if it weren't for the rolled sleeves and hem tucked into the jeans which hung dangerously low on his hips, bringing your attention to the ridiculously large belt buckle. He grinned wide to the sheriff, extending a hand in greeting. 

"Sheriff Whitehorse."

Turning his attention to you, John's smile slipped from friendly to almost predatory before he expertly shook the reaction and reached his tattooed fingers out to yours. His fingers squeezed gently at yours as he shook your hand as well. 

"Deputy, always such a pleasure to see you," he cooed. When you replied with a brief nod, John pulled his gaze and hand from you reluctantly. "Won't you both please come inside?"

"Thank you John," Earl agreed politely. He nodded to you to proceed through the door first, allowing you to brush past John as he stood to the side of the entrance. You resisted the urge to look up at him as you passed, knowing his eyes were very much on you the entire way. 

"Of course. When I received the call from you... well, I have to admit I was a bit taken back by this... accusation."

John closed the door behind you and strolled casually to the living room area where he reserved the couch for you and the Sheriff with a wave of his hand, choosing to sit in the armchair to the side of the room. With an ankle resting on his knee, he leaned back and placed his hands on the arms of the chair. 

"I was surprised to have received it too if I'm being truthful, but Henry is madder than I've ever seen him. He's a good man, never made as much as a noise complaint in the past. I figured I owed him a house call at the very least to see what's going on here."

John nodded, keeping his eyes deliberately on you. He leaned in slightly and stroked his beard thoughtfully. A long forced moment of silence hung in the room as John seemed to hum over what Earl was telling him. Finally, he dropped his hand and stood with a fluid motion. 

"He was quite upset when I purchased the land from him. Hard times all around I suppose," he spoke calmly and with a tinge of empathy to his voice. "I can understand why he would be regretting his decision but I assure you both, I have the legal contract signed by both parties in my office."

"And he doesn't have a copy of this?" you blurted. This situation was becoming vastly familiar with the reports you had read over the past few days. 

"I provided him with one, yes," he answered confidently; eyes sparkling with the same light you had drowned in a few nights prior. "Deputy, perhaps you would care to escort me to my office while I locate the documents."

Before you could speak, Earl nodded and patted a hand to your knee in encouragement. 

With a glance back and forth between the two men, each smiling, you nodded as you pushed yourself up from the couch and followed John to the far side of the open room. When you both approached the large wooden double doors, he pushed one gracefully aside and turned to you with a tiny grin. As you moved past him, the same scent of cologne filled your nostrils, bringing you back to the moment where he was pounding you without mercy in his back seat. Cheeks reddening, you distracted yourself by glancing around the room.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you took in the deep mahogany bookcases and heavy wooden furniture that was so meticulously spread out around the room; the centerpiece being the enormous desk, set with neat piles of papers and a portrait of his family that looked like they had just attended a funeral. 

"I was hoping to see you again," John whispered as he slid silently behind you. His chest brushed against your back as he leaned over your shoulder, studying your face for a reaction. 

"Not the best timing," you admitted, still taking in every detail of the room. It was only when John trailed his fingertips up both your arms that you stopped and turned your attention back to him. "Please tell me you actually have these documents."

You couldn't see his face but the exasperated sigh in your ear was enough to tell you he was disappointed in your response. Huffing slightly, he made his way around you to the large desk; opening a drawer and pulling out a file. Holding the folder out to you, rather than walking it back, he spoke quickly. "It's all in here, deputy. This copy is of course for you and there is an additional copy for Mr. Jensen. I spoke with my banker and it seems he has not yet cashed the cheque I provided so a new one has also been provided. Please see to it that he receives it."

"And if he decides he doesn't want to cash it? Are you willing to give the land back to him? His family farm is on it."

"We had a deal, a signed and legal contract, deputy. My family and I could put the farm to use for personal reasons and of course, the compensation he's receiving is worth far more than his business," he explained. A hint of irritability edged at his tone as he held the folder out further for you to retrieve; no doubt a move of power on his part. 

"John, for fuck's sake, just give it back alright? This is going to be nothing but a pain in the Sheriff's ass, which in turn will be my ass," you told him, finally stepping forward and snatching the folder from his outstretched hand. You tossed the file folder on the desk without looking inside and kept your attention on him as his eyebrows raised in your direction. "As much as I've enjoyed seeing you again, I'd rather not have to handle your family's bullshit."

"You make it sound like this is a regular occurrence for you," he chirped with amusement dancing over his face. He took a step closer and raised a hand to you again, grazing your cheek. "Deputy, I'm here for whatever will make your life easier. All you have to do is tell me what you need."

Your pulse raced at the warmth of this touch but forced yourself into motion, picking the folder again. Spinning on your heel, you headed to the door, choosing to stop with your hand still holding the handle. "I've read your file. Seems this isn't the first time this has happened."

John's light-hearted smile fell at the realization of your words. He stared intently at you, piercing through you with his baby-blues that had seemed to darken with his mood. 

"Oh relax, it's not like you're murdering people for fuck's sake," you said lightly and walked back to Earl who was now studying the taxidermy that decorated the empty corners of the room. You waved the folder at him as you approached. "I think we have what we need."

"Perfect, lets get back to the station and get all this sorted out," Earl instructed. He placed his hat back on his head with a nod over your shoulder. "Thank you John. We'll be in touch."

"I look forward to hearing from you deputy. Perhaps I should stop by the station tomorrow to hear of your progress?" he asked, approaching you at the front door. His eyes swept over you from head to toe, that same spark entered his eyes again. "Or maybe you'd prefer to meet somewhere a bit more private? Grab a drink?"

"The station is fine," you instructed, trying to keep your tone level. Earl's eyes were on you immediately. "Thank you Mr. Seed."

A wicked smile crept over his lips as you both exited and hopped into Earl's run-down pick up truck. You both turned to one another in unison as he slipped the truck into drive. 

"I dunno about that boy, I really don't. Don't trust him either. Did you see the way he looked at you?" Earl asked, shaking his head as he pulled out of the driveway. "Looked like he was ready to eat you up."


	4. Chapter 4

"It's quiet tonight."

"Mm," Mary May agreed. She poured two shots, pushed one to you and held the other up in your direction. "Thursdays normally are. Speaking of which, you're a day early aren't ya?"

You clinked her glass and downed the bitter whiskey she had suggested. Involuntarily, you shook your head as the liquid stung at your tongue and a winced before you answered her. "The crowds are a bit much for me. I just don't have it in me to socialize this week, I guess."

"Not even with John Seed?" 

"No," you replied quickly, avoiding her face. You slid the empty shot glass between your hands, back and forth across the counter. 

A long moment passed before you felt a presence in your space and glanced up to see Mary leaning on the wooden surface, raising an eyebrow. She watched you like you were some sort of exhibit behind a glass display, and even though her expression was neutral, you knew it was time for yet another lecture from the president of the John Seed Hate Club. "You're a big girl, and hell you deserve some company. I know you've got a good head on those pretty shoulders but just be careful, alright?" 

This broken record you had been hearing for months was starting to grate on you. 

"Got it," you nodded curtly and pushed the glass her way. A quick smile and a few words good-bye and you were out the door. You wrapped your coat around your body and cursed under your breath as the cool wind that had apparently picked up since you arrived cut through you. Earlier, the sun had warmed the day, encouraging your weekly routine of making the long walk home rather than finding a drive but now you regretted the decision. Still, there weren't many options, so you heaved a sigh and headed west, taking the route you knew to be the shortest.

You made the quick climb over the homemade fencing that lined the open field ahead of you. There was no farm here, at least not anymore, but the property had been closed off to the public for reasons unknown. The grass was relatively short and other than the narrow brook that split the property in two, it was easy to navigate; even with a few drinks under your belt. 

Humming a tune as you walked briskly, trying to block the chill, you took in the sights - the abandoned tractor parked on the side of the road you had grown so accustomed to, the trees that swayed like hula dancers in the distance and then... something foreign. The glimmer of cherry red paint crested the hill in the distance. The headlights reflected the now setting sun as a cloud of dust kicked up from the pavement and billowed behind it like the tail of a kite.

Finding a vehicle that wasn't a pick up truck or a run down sedan in this county seemed to be a rarity, but an antique Mustang in pristine condition was a true miracle. As it sped by, you stopped, still a few yards from the road, and appreciated the roar of the engine. You watched as it tore down the road effortlessly until it braked and pulled a sharp u-turn. 

That was now two laws broken by your count. 

As the car neared, you groaned; hardly surprised by who was in the driver's seat. He grinned as he leaned over the seat and pushed the door open once he finally parked. 

"Deputy, I thought that was you but then I couldn't understand why you would be on private property," John chirped. 

You crossed your arms and ignored his remarks, knowing he had every right to make it. "You thought it was me and yet you decided to speed past me."

"Was I speeding? I hadn't noticed," he claimed, sobering his expression. "Can I offer you a drive to make up for it?" 

You toyed with the idea, knowing you still had a tedious walk ahead of you but decided it would be best to decline. You liked John but the warnings and whispering you heard about him still kept you cautious. Or perhaps it was the certainty that once inside this sexy car with its sexier driver, your lack of self-control would once again abandon you in your moment of need. "I'm fine, thank you."

You turned to the road ahead and threw a quick wave his way as you continued your walk. If your pace was hurried before, it was downright break-neck now as you tried to escape the awkwardness of the situation. Thirty feet from where you left him, the echo of the car door closing sounded, followed by the sound of a second door. Puzzled, you checked over your shoulder to see the youngest Seed jogging towards you; his loafers clicking on the pavement. He stopped as he caught up to you and slowed his pace to match yours. "I would feel much better knowing you arrived home safely." 

"John," you chuckled. "I have a gun on me. Nothing is going to happen."

"True. I don't doubt you're more than capable Deputy, but the wildlife in these parts can be troublesome. Just last week, a friend of mine was mauled by a cougar."

You stopped, giving him your attention. "Are they okay?"

"Yes, they're fine. They had a rifle on them luckily, but the danger is still present. And if nothing else, you would be home quicker and have more time to enjoy your evening. I'm sure you had a long day at work." 

_Bastard._

He had a point. Several in fact. Sighing, you tightened your coat once more, realizing more than ever how cold the air had turned. You spoke quickly, deciding to do so before you changed your mind. "If it's not too much trouble then." 

"No trouble at all." 

He smiled once more and led the way back to his car, opening the door like a proper gentleman and hopped inside, taking his place next to you. With a smooth hand, the key was slipped into the ignition. The Mustang roared to life and took off effortlessly. 

"You're dressed up," you observed, looking over his pressed clothing, gleaming belt bucket and pin striped vest. Before meeting John Seed, you hadn't realized there were degrees of quality in buttons but his were selected with a precise eye for detail; matching the remainder of his outfit. The interior of the car smelt of the same cologne you now associated with him and thought of often. 

"Sundays and Thursday evenings, my brother holds a Service," John explained. You nodded, remembering the stories you heard of Joseph's sermons. There were talks of full choirs, presentations on flat screen televisions and large gatherings outdoors with food and drink. The other deputies had scoffed at it but to you, it just sounded like any other church. "Where am I taking you, deputy?"

You tried explaining the place to him, which he vaguely understood, only taking one wrong turn along the way. He chatted about the service as he drove, glancing often to you to flash a smile or ensure you were listening. The few times he caught you looking out the side window, he reached over and grazed your arm, ensuring your attention was brought back to him. 

"You can stop here," you told him abruptly. He slowed the car almost to a stop but didn't pull over; his expression now puzzled. "I live off a dirt road. It can't be good for your paint job."

John nodded and pulled over, killing the engine and opening his door. Before you could ask what he was doing, he was outside making his way to your side of the car. His hand outstretched as a look of disappointment crept over his features when he found you opening your own door and stepping out to join him. 

"Thanks for the drive. You really didn't have to."

"My pleasure. In truth, I'm glad I was able to see you again."

"Oh, right. About Mr. Jensen…"

John held up a palm and shook it, stopping you from finishing your thought. "I trust that's been taken care of. I meant on a personal level."

Your cheeks flushed. The night you had spent together had left you wanting more, if you were being truthful with yourself, and the visit to his Ranch only helped fuel those late night fantasies. You had daydreamed on more than one occasion of how exceptionally clean every surface in his home was and how easy it would be to dirty them. 

"Speaking of which," you turned and walked backwards down the dirt road, keeping your eyes on his. "You make it hard to be professional, you know? Especially with my boss being there."

John smirked, his blue eyes now twinkling as he followed after you. "You were all business, don't worry. Quite impressive really, considering you wanted me to tear your clothes off even with the good Sheriff watching." 

"Oh? You think so?" 

"Tell me I'm wrong."

You stopped walking, snapping back at him. "Where are you going?" 

"I'm walking you home." 

John took a few last steps towards you and clasped his hands behind his back. One eyebrow raised slightly as he entered your personal space. 

"I can walk alone. It's not far."

"Of course you can, darling. But we both know neither of us wants that," he purred. His voice lowered slightly, slowing as he spoke the last few words. 

_Fuck._

You couldn't deny it, and he knew it. Even if you did deny it, you would be left a needy, frustrated mess. He, of course, knew _that_ too. You had two options as you could see it - go home, put your vibrator on the highest setting and get this over with in less than five minutes. Grab some of the left-over pizza in the fridge and watch the recorded tv shows you had been ignoring. Or, let John walk you home and feel his hands on your body rather than try to remember what they felt like from your drunken fog the week prior. 

_Fuck._

You walked again without a word and glanced behind once up the road to see him trailing you with something predatory in his stare. He could have easily caught up but you noticed he stayed a few yards back, his hands now in his front pockets as he followed. 

Your cabin wasn't far from the road (not like the others you had seen nestled in the cliffs or accessible only by foot) and soon you were fishing through your pocket for your key. The cool air had woken you and shook away the buzz you had left the bar with, making it easier than last time to slip the key in the lock. 

"I'm not used to seeing your home so clearly," John commented as he leaned against the doorframe casually. It dawned on you then, that this was the second time he had been here; the first being a week earlier when his driver brought you home. He hadn't asked to come in then and you hadn't mentioned it either. The driver with his grisly beard and curious eyes had pulled close enough to the door for you to hop out and make your way quickly inside before John had had the chance. 

"I'm guessing you'd like to come in. Drink?" 

"I'd love that."

You stepped inside, leaving the door open behind you for him to follow. You peeled your jacket off and threw it over the back on one of the stools that rested under the ledge of the laminate countertop and opened the fridge, retrieving two bottles of spring water. "I've had enough to drink and you're driving."

John didn't respond. He was too busy studying the spines of the book collection you had nestled in the bookcase on the opposite wall. "Psychology interests you, hm? You'd get along well with my brother."

"Joseph?" you handed John the bottle as you reached his side and twisted the cap off your own. "I suppose it makes sense." 

John retrieved the bottle from your hand but kept his eyes on the bookcase. "No, my eldest brother. He's very interested in the human mind." 

"Oh," you murmured. "Right, I forgot you had a second brother. It just seems like everyone talks about Joseph all the time but I remember… Jacob right?"

"Yes. What exactly have people said?" 

"Just that he's ex-military, a serious type and lives north of here."

John seemed to relax at that. He nodded and walked to the couch, making himself at home as he sat with one leg over the other. His attention was on you fully as if he were trying to convey something silently. Deciding not to be rude, you took a seat beside him, rather than at the counter. Everything was in close proximity regardless, but it felt impolite to sit in what was technically another room within your one room cabin. 

As you leaned forward to set your bottle next to his on the floor, you felt the cushions below you shift with John's weight. He inched closer to you; turned completely now to face you. 

"John..."

"Yes, beautiful?"

"I feel like this is becoming a weekly event."

He chuckled then - light and airy and almost child like. His features softened and the crinkle at the bridge of his nose disappeared as he moved closer still and placed a hand to the back of your head. 

"I can't think of a better tradition."


	5. Chapter 5

John draped an arm low on your waist, stretching his body out behind you. His beard tickled against your skin as he laid another kiss on your shoulder.

You smiled and turned to see his face; flushed but glowing with satisfaction. He returned your smile and pulled himself closer still. 

"Your car's probably been stolen by now."

"Well worth it," said John. His torso was now pressed firmly against you; the sweat on his skin moistening your back and his mess of hair brushing against your cheek. 

You wondered if John was always this affectionate after sex. 

"I've never had anyone in my house before," you admitted, not entirely sure why you chose to confess. 

"I rarely have company either," he said quietly. His lips brushed against the sensitive and reddened skin at the side of your neck as he spoke. "Unless there's something they need of course."

"Like this?"

"No."

Silence hung between you for a few moments and you realized that his body had now become tense. You rolled over to face him, still keeping keeping yourself under his arm, and watched his face for a moment. He returned your gaze with a look hinting of sadness. It was familiar to you. You had seen it before. 

You chose to bring a hand to his forehead and swept away the hair that had fallen over it and spoke cautiously, not wanting to spoil the moment. "Maybe next week, we do this at your place then."

His expression softened. "Whatever you'd like, my dear." 

His lips were on yours then, cutting off the rest of your thoughts. Everything about his demeanor had changed, you noticed. Where his hands had groped roughly moments ago and his lips and teeth had abused, they were now gentle and slow. 

It was as if he not only savoured every touch, but craved it.

\---

Sunlight peeked in through the faux wooden blinds that hung on the double window, flooding the room with the reminder that it was once again time to start the day. It wasn't the morning that had woken you though; it was the clinking of porcelain and the whoosh of water from the tap. 

You sat up in bed, blinking in the direction of the noise. There in the kitchen, stood John. He busied himself by plugging in the electric kettle and gingerly setting down two mismatched mugs on the counter. He then opened another cupboard door, searching for what you presumed to be coffee. 

"Next cupboard over," you called over groggily. The alarm clock read 6:45 am. Your shift started at 8:30 so there was still plenty of time for a cup. "Bottom shelf."

John glanced over his shoulder with a smile. He was still shirtless from the night prior but he had chosen to wear his boxers briefs. You noticed his hair was still a mess compared to his usual slicked-back style. It suited him a lot better, you thought. 

"Good morning, beautiful," he crooned. "I hope you don't mind but I'm nothing without a bit of caffeine in my blood."

You chuckled and pulled yourself out of bed, throwing on your t-shirt and panties from last night and joined him in the kitchen. It was odd to have him here, but comforting at the same time. He was still a stranger to you, yet he knew parts of your life that others didn't. 

"Same," you agreed, running a hand through your hair in a vain attempt at taming it. You were well aware of how you looked first thing in the morning but since he had seen you already, there was no use trying to hide it. You reached into the fridge and retrieved the cream and pointed to the cupboard next to him. "Sugar's up there."

John smiled but didn't move to find it. He stepped to you and swept a strand of hair from your face, his bright eyes dancing in the morning sun. "Can I drive you to the station?"

"I'd love that but then I'd have no way home," you explained, tilting your face to his.

"I could pick you up afterwards. We could have dinner together," he suggested, still brushing his fingertips through your unruly mess of hair.

"John.."

"It's Friday afterall. We have a routine to uphold," he coerced. 

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, realizing you had to start getting ready for work. Talking to John was only making you want to stay in bed. 

Searching through your dresser, you retrieved your uniform and headed to the bathroom. With a hand on the doorframe, you turned to see him watching you. 

"Next week," you offered. "You pick me up, and we can do whatever your little heart desires.

"Fair," he agreed. He leaned back on the counter with his arms folded over his chest and grinned. "But to make up for this injustice, you spend the night." 

You closed the bathroom door without answering, not sure how you would feel about that come next week. It was easy to agree in the post morning glow of last night and you could only imagine John was the type to hold you to your word; even without the knowledge of his profession. 

Undressing quickly, you ran the water in the shower and assessed yourself in the mirror. Sure enough, your hair was a tangle and the little makeup you usually wore was now circling your eyes. You groaned and stepped under the water, pulling the shower curtain across noisily. The water felt particularly good this morning. In fact, everything seemed to, but you refused to thank John for that just yet. 

The bathroom door creaked open then and you watched John's outline through the curtain. He stripped and slid the curtain to the side long enough to step in behind you. He didn't speak a word as he moved under the water and grasped your hips. His fingertips dug into your curves as his lips found your shoulder. 

"I have to go to work."

"Then we'll have to be quick, won't we?" 

His right hand moved from your hip and slid up your body until it was grasping at your throat. He didn't squeeze but kept it firmly planted, allowing you enough space to turn and kiss his waiting lips. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there before. 

Nodding, you melded your mouth with his, tasting the coffee he apparently drank without you, on his tongue. You always marvelled at how John kissed; it wasn't urgent like the way the rest of his body moved, but slow and soft. His tongue touched at yours expertly, pulling you into the kiss just long enough before he would pull back and tease at your lips again. 

"Hands on the wall," he ordered between his teeth as he bit at your bottom lip. His hand roamed again, moving from your throat and down to the apex between your thighs. Wasting no time, he parted your lips and brushing two fingers against your already swollen clit. A sharp gasp slipped from your mouth as he circled them ever so slowly. His tongue snaked against your ear then, sending a shiver through you to match the one caused by his skilled hands.

You did as instructed, placing your palms to the slick tiles as the water cascaded over your shoulders. John pushed you forward until your cheek rested between your hands. There was movement behind you and then the tip of his cock was pressed firmly against your entrance. The resistance your body gave him only acted as a minor challenge as he snapped his hips forward and buried his full thickness of his shaft inside you with one fluid motion.

"Fuck, you take that so well," he purred as he pulled out entirely and repeated his movement again. The teasing of his fingers continued, now quickening. It was entirely out of rhythm with his strokes but the contrast worked beautifully. John's other hand dug into your hip as he groaned and stopped abruptly. The feeling of his cock stretching you had you writhing against him, desperate for friction. "Such a greedy little thing."

Your mouth opened to respond but his hips were moving again. Fingertips grabbed and teased. His lips were against your ear again and the sound of both your moans and heavy breaths rose with the stream in the bathroom. 

A whine escaped as you heard his guttural moans from behind you. His voice alone was enough to make you beg for release but the slew of filth that came from his full lips had the warmth between your thighs turning to tension that was building quickly. Your walls began to tighten and flutter around him and with a flood of ecstasy, you finally came undone.

"J-john," you stammered.

John dropped his hand then, and grabbed your other hip as he thrust a few more times and came with a loud groan. His body shuddered as he placed his forehead to your shoulder, his hands still gripping tightly at your body. 

"You're going to be trouble for me, deputy," he panted.

"This is going to be trouble for us both," you agreed. You weren't sure why you felt that way but it had been a feeling you had had from the moment you first met him.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday came and as promised, John arrived at precisely the moment you opened the doors to the sheriff's office and stepped outside. He had chosen the same car he had driven you home in the week prior, though you knew for sure he had at least two vehicles. Your assumption was this was his daily driver, perhaps when he wasn't tied up with work or the Project. 

Much like his car, his attire was also casual today. The navy blue t-shirt he wore fell loose around his hips, just below the waistband of his tight fitting dark washed jeans. Every tattoo was displayed proudly and seemed fresh and new under the gleaming sun. 

"Deputy," John purred as he strode to the passenger side door and held it open. He took the gym bag from your shoulder and threw it behind the seat before he stepped aside. "You look as beautiful as ever. I wasn't sure you'd follow through with our plans." 

"Weekly tradition, remember?" You reminded him as you slid into the passenger seat. You waited for him to join you in the car before you finished your thought. "I never break a deal."

"We have that in common then. Still, I haven't heard from you all week," he pointed out. His tone was flat but sounded almost hurt. 

"I haven't heard from you either."

John's bottom lip twisted between his teeth as he ignored the comment. His tattooed fingers drummed at the wheel to a tune only he could hear but his posture remained tense as he drove. It was only when the car was parked to the side of his house, that his shoulders finally relaxed and the ghost of a real smile brushed his lips. 

"Home at last," John murmured to himself as he rested his head to the back of the seat and studied you with a sparkle in his eyes. His hand moved to your knee, tracing patterns along the fabric. "I've missed that pretty smile."

You leaned closer, mirroring his posture and ran a thumb over his cheek. "Have you always been this charming?" 

"Always."

Your smile widened as he reached for your hand, pulling it from his cheek and kissing the palm. The way he kept his eyes on yours, sent a warmth over your face. 

All you could think of was his lips on yours. That delicate rhythm he set as he teased at your tongue. The perfect balance of gentle kisses and rough hards on your body. It had you coming back to him, week after week and you wondered if there would ever be an escape from it. 

"I hope you brought your appetite."

"I.. did," you paused, caught off guard by his sudden topic jumping. "I could eat a fucking horse right now, I'm so hungry."

"Good," John chirped and bounced from the car. You blinked after him, unsure of what had changed. 

He carried your bag and casually took your hand as he led the way through the front door, opening it to the sweet and earthy smell you remembered. 

"My bedroom is upstairs if you'd like to get changed. You can leave your bag there too if you'd like. I'll start dinner," he offered before pointing to the staircase "Last door."

You nodded and left the warmth of his hand, grabbing your bag and heading to the staircase. Halfway up, you turned, expecting to see him watching you but the living room below was empty. A soft clang of pots let you know he was already in the kitchen. 

At the top of the stairs, you passed several opened doors - a bathroom with clay coloured tiles on the floor and enormous fluffy white towels, a bedroom with a double bed draped in a blue and white quilt that screamed "rustic" more than anything John Seed should ever own and lastly, John's own bedroom. It was slightly larger than the other bedroom, with grey flooring, dark wood furniture and a large picture window behind the bed that let the light pool beautifully in all the corners of the room. He had traded the ranch chic quilt from the last room, for a black and grey dovet cover. The pattern that swirled was abstract but pulled all the accents of the room neatly into the one bolt of fabric. 

You set the bag down on a nearby armchair and closed the door, gaze sweeping over the details of this intimate space. Other than stack of notebooks on the floor next to the chair and a few bottles of cologne on the dresser, there really wasn't anything that would have distinguished this from the rest of the rooms. It surprised you to not see the faces of his family hung on the walls. 

Undressing quickly from your uniform, you unzippered the bag and thumbed through the clothes you had gathered, feeling foolish at packing so much. It was one night, you had reminded yourself but the stress of it all had forced you to overplan as you were known to do, packing several outfits. 

Finally deciding on a pair of snug fitting jeans and a grey pullover sweater, you stuffed your uniform with the rest of the contents and headed downstairs to find John in the kitchen. He hummed as he moved between the stove to the cutting board. 

"Can I help?" 

"It's under control, but thank you my dear," John assured you as his knife glided expertly over the wooden board, leaving perfectly sliced mushrooms. After tipping them into a nearby pan, he wiped his hands with a nearby tea towel. "Shouldn't be too much longer."

"Look at you! Quite the cook," you complimented as you walked around the counter to assess the various pans on the stove. The potatoes in one of them were now browned from the melting butter and rosemary. Two palm sized steaks sizzled in cast-iron along with the mushrooms he had just added, and on the back burner, a sheet pan cooled with roasted carrots, heavily sprinkled with coarse grains of sea salt. The aroma forced your eyes to shut as you breathed it all in. "This.. looks amazing. Oh my god."

"Can I offer you a drink?" John asked hurriedly, ignoring your comments. You weren't sure what it was, but his mood seemed off. The usual confident swagger had been shed and a much more vulnerable man stood in its place. "There's wine chilling in the fridge if you'd like."

"Are you having some?" 

He shook his head but reached for the cupboard with the glasses. His fingers grazed a glass as he waited for your response. When he caught sight of your raised eyebrow, he explained. "I shouldn't be drinking. But please, don't let me stop you." 

"Water is fine," you told him. He flashed an odd look but filled a glass quickly for you from the tap and a second for himself. "John, is everything alright?"

John stared at your fingers as they moved to his forearm and grazed along the skin. He kept a hand on one of the glasses as he placed it on the granite countertop. His eyes lingered there until you squeezed lightly in reassurance. 

"Yes, of course," he replied with a brilliant smile, bringing his eyes to yours. "I'm happy to have you here, darling."

"Bullshit. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I promise you…"

"Bullshit," you repeated, placing your palms to his chest. "This.. whatever this is you do, may work with other people. Maybe they don't care enough to pry, but I do. Now, spill." 

John's gaze pierced as he studied you and then looked around the room, as if assessing the best way to proceed. Or perhaps, escape. When he finally focused again on your face, his shoulders fell and the tiniest whisp of a sigh escaped his lips. 

"I haven't been entirely honest with you."


	7. Chapter 7

"How can I possibly be mad about that?" 

You pushed the plate to the side, glancing down at the left over food you couldn't possibly finish. John sat adjacent, fingers steepled to his lips. 

"She wasn't so accepting," he replied dully.

"Of.. me, you mean?" John nodded. "But you're not in a relationship. Or.. shit, please tell me you're not."

He leaned back from the table and ran a hand through his hair, clearly impatient with your questions. "No, no. Nothing like that. Holly and I have known each other for a long time. She feels a.. how do I say this?"

"She wants you on a short leash," you replied, annoyed with this woman already. You understood of course - she had feelings for John. You did too to a degree but with no commitments, how could either of you lay claim to him? In truth, the pang of jealousy you felt when he first confessed was outweighed by the feeling of relief. John had acted like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders when you first sat you down in the dining room. 

John crossed his arms in an unusual and almost awkward manner and nodded. He had yet to bring his gaze from your face; studying every reaction as he spoke. 

"Look," you began, leaning over the table on your elbows. "We're friends. I won't say anything about what you do during your personal time, so long as you do the same for me. Agreed?"

There was a range of emotions in his smile then - from curious to touched in a matter of seconds, and as he leaned over to play with your fingertips, something wicked flashed. 

You watched each other, both with an unyielding intensity, before he finally stood and announced, "I'm fucking you right here on this table."

\---

"What the hell is that?" you chuckled, rubbing a finger against John's bare shoulder. You both laid sprawled on the oversized table, breathing heavily. Pulling back your finger to inspect it, you wrinkled your nose and tried wiping the butter back where you found it. John backed out of your arms and swatted at your hand disgustedly. You laughed loudly at his expression. "This is… look at this mess."

"Worth it, but yes.. I think we should get cleaned up," he suggested, kissing you on the forehead before he sat up and pushed off of the edge of the table. He surveyed the mess of cutlery, plates and discarded clothing and held a hand out to you. "Come, my dear. I'll run us a bath." 

Taking his hand with a smile to match his own, you shimmied to the floor, taking care to not tip the one glass that had yet to spill. To your surprise, John left the wreckage of the dining room behind and led you upstairs to the bathroom you had seen earlier with the oversized towels. 

"I don't usually use the bathroom downstairs," John explained as he leaned over the enormous tub and adjusted the water temperature. The stopper was dropped when he was finally content with it and he turned back to you; eyes lingered over your body as if he hadn't just seen you moments earlier. It was a starved look of desire you had grown accustomed to but one that forced your cheeks to flush every time. "That one is for guests."

"I'm not a guest?" 

"Well," he spoke quietly as he returned to your side and swept the hair from your forehead. His hand moved to your ear, tracing its curve delicately. With each motion, he watched his fingers as if you were the very work of art he was composing. "Not the guests I find in my bed."

Holly's name flashed through your mind and the sting of jealousy threatened to break through the surface again. You weren't even sure what the woman looked like but you already knew she was most likely stunningly beautiful, witty, rich and well educated. You realized as John stepped away and lowered himself in the tub, that you really didn't care for her already. 

"Coming?" 

You nodded and took a seat facing away from John. His legs stretched out on either side of you as he nuzzled against your shoulder before laying a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. Hands wrapped themselves low on your hips. 

"I feel like I could fall asleep, I'm so tired now."

"Mm," John agreed. He laid a cheek to the back of your shoulder. "You are staying?"

"I promised," you reminded him. 

"People break promises."

"Well," you told him, twisting in his arms enough to see his face and the look of pain that threatened to overtake it. "I don't."

John smiled then, and grabbed the nearby bath puff. His eyes fell to the soap as he worked a lather between his hands and scrubbed gently at your sides. "We'll see."

"John," you chided gently, bringing a wet palm to his cheek. "You and I are better than that. No broken promises, alright? And no more secrets either."

"You're something special, my deputy. I knew that from the start." 

John turned you back to face away from him with a quick movement of his hands and proceeded to wash you in silence. His fingers ran over your stomach, lowering slowly until they slid between your legs. Nimbly, he grazed through the soapy water momentarily before pulling back to wash your shoulders. 

"You're evil," you hissed, feeling the absence of his touch already. 

"Whatever do you mean?" 

He leaned in and bit at your earlobe. A trail of warm breath tickled at the goosebumps that were forming on your skin. His hands wrapped again around our waist as he slid forward in the tub and rested behind you. Your pupils blew wide as you felt his cock hardening against your hips. 

John let out a soft "shh" against the lobe that was still captive between his teeth until he helped turn you onto his lap. "You stay right there for me."

"And if I don't?" 

"I know you by now to know you want to cum on my cock just as much as I want you to. Do as you're told, my sweet sinner."

Fingertips dug into your hips as he held you inches over his lap, not allowing you to sit. You met his lips eagerly, feeling the full force of his kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, up the nape of his neck and into his hair. A firm tug at the roots pulled a moan from his throat. 

Impatience set in as it always did for John and soon he was lifting his hips until they met yours, grinning in the process; happy to be indulging in the sin you knew he preached so openly against.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was so slow getting this chapter out! I just don't seem to have the motivation to write lately. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! ☺️♥️

"Milk or cream?" 

"Doesn't matter. I'm just happy to have the caffeine," you explained, watching John approach with two cups of fresh coffee. The aroma was unlike anything you had experienced before; rich with a sweet note you couldn't quite place. 

"Didn't you sleep well? Seems to me, you were out like a light," he commented as he poured a splash of milk in each cup and slid into the chair at your side. He took a quick sip before reaching for the bacon he had set in the middle of the table earlier. 

"Yes, but then someone kept waking me up all night. Do you always toss in your sleep like that?"

John placed another strip on his plate and set the fork down gently. His smile faded as he kept his focus on the food. "Not always."

You observed him for a long moment; lost in his thoughts. "Uh thanks by the way. The eggs are perfect." 

"Glad to hear that," said John quietly. He moved his own around on the plate until you finally asked him if everything was okay. It was only then, he seemed to shake whatever was troubling him. "Better than okay, you're here."

"Will this charm never end?"

Grinning again, he swallowed and shook his head. "Not likely."

As you returned his smile, you felt the mood in the air lighten around you and though neither of you spoke as you ate, it felt comfortable once again. 

After breakfast, John suggested sitting outside on the balcony. It was a beautiful morning and both of you agreed the fresh air would be nice. Deciding you needed to get cleaned up first, you announced you'd be out shortly and grabbed a shower as quick as you could; before your privacy was breached. After changing into a pair of jeans and a short sleeved shirt, you made your way outside. There, John leaned over the balcony railing. He watched the yard below with casual curiosity. 

"It's chillier than I thought it would be," you commented, making yourself known as you approached. John nodded as you leaned next to him with your elbows resting on the railing. You both watched in silence as a few of his guards practiced on the targets at the far end of the property. You wondered about them. There were so many questions but most it seemed, had been answered by the residents of the county already. You only wondered if the side of the story you were getting was the right one. 

"I've enjoyed having you here," John admitted, interrupting your thoughts. He tilted his face in your direction and smiled, leaving the usual ego in his smirk behind. 

"Why is it you and your family have such a bad reputation? Everyone at the station…"

"Your fellow deputies don't have the same open mind as you I'm afraid, but they'll come around once they see we're only trying to help," John assured you. He stepped closer and brought your hands between his. Gently, he ran his thumb over your fingers. "You don't believe them I hope."

Squinting into the sun, you turned from him with your hands still in his as the sound of tires on dirt pulled your attention away. 

In the distance, a white pickup tore up the driveway before finally stopping close to the front door. It sat for a moment with the engine idling until the driver's side door opened and a sturdy redhead hopped gracefully from the front seat. He slammed the door behind him as his brows furrowed, scanning the area until he found John. Nodding as he approached, he turned his gaze to you and locked eyes. 

Your breath caught in your throat. 

There he was. The stoic soldier. The man everyone in the county seemed to fear, even with the kindness you recognized, pooling in his blue eyes. It had been some time since you had seen him last and in truth, it was only in passing, but his was a face you couldn't easily forget. 

Your hands slid from John's as you watched Jacob glide with wide steps across the lawn. 

"Darling?" John asked, grasping for your hand once more. He squeezed at your palm, desperately trying to regain the moment that was now lost. 

"Where the hell is everyone?" 

Jacob crested the top of the stairs leading to the balcony and made his way to you. Quickly, you pulled back from John and stepped to his side. 

"Jacob, I wasn't expecting company."

The soldier smirked. His gaze fixed on you as he spoke. "Could have fooled me."

Next to you, you heard a low huff erupt from John's lips. He waved a hand in your direction as he spoke. "This is my brother Jacob. Jacob, this is.."

"I know who she is," Jacob announced, taking a step closer. His eyes swept over your face. "Nice to see you, Deputy. Everything alright here?" 

"All good," you muttered. Your words seemed to die in your throat as you felt the heat spread across your cheeks. "We were just having coffee. Nothing official."

"No official business," John corrected. He flashed a smile that seemed to pull at his features unnaturally. Keeping his eyes on you, he continued. "More coffee, deputy?"

"Sure."

"Better make it strong," Jacob told him. He brushed past, making his way inside without another word. Both of you stood, unsure if you should follow or call after him. 

"Sorry for the intrusion. I didn't know he was coming," John admitted. 

"You worry too much," you told him. You placed a palm to his cheek and smiled as he leaned into your touch as he always did. "It'll be good to get to know your brother too." 

\---

"I'm surprised John hasn't tried hauling you to church by now," Jacob chuckled. He set his now empty mug on the counter and wagged a finger in its direction, letting John know he was ready for another cup. 

"I'm not the religious type. I mean, no offense to you guys… I know that's super important to you both."

"To Joseph," Jacob corrected. He thanked John and took another swig of the dark liquid before turning his attention back to you. "You bought the old Nelson cabin, correct?" 

"Uh, yeah.. How did you know that?" 

John leaned over the other side of the counter where you were seated and reached for your mug. You stopped him quickly, knowing you'd be wired for sound if you had anymore caffeine. "Jacob arranges security for the Project. There are a lot of people who would see us run out of town if they had the chance."

"It's a small county," Jacob interrupted. He smirked at John's explanation and downed the rest of his coffee. "And a woman like you is hard to miss."

You blinked, unsure if he was commenting on your profession and being the new kid on the block, or if he was actually flirting with you. Jacob grinned and laughter seemed to dance in the oceans of his eyes as he watched you piece everything together. 

Beside you, John cleared his throat. Annoyance dripped from his words as he pulled your attention back to him once more. "Was there something you wanted to talk about, Jake?" 

"Mm," he agreed. "In your office, if that's alright."

"Fine."

John placed his mug in the sink and exited the room, only stopping long enough to let you know he wouldn't be long and to please make yourself at home. You noticed he didn't smile as he did. 

"Won't be long, Dep," Jacob promised. He patted a hand once to your shoulder as he passed. 

You waited for the brothers to disappear before finally exhaling. 

"Focus, you idiot," you whispered to yourself. To say you were disappointed in your actions, was an understatement. You were independent and had gone this long without needing anyone. What was it about these two that made your heart skip a beat?

Finally mustering the energy to get up, you headed upstairs to gather your clothes from the day before and pushed them into the bottom of your bag. After staying overnight, you were ready to go home and lounge on the couch. Not to mention there was a laundry list of chores needing to be done. 

You assessed the bag, making sure you had everything and zipped it up. Slinging it over your shoulder, you turned and let out a shriek. 

"Oh my fuck, you scared me."

"Sorry. I figured you'd have heard me when I walked in," Jacob explained. 

"No," you spat, running a hand through your hair as you steadied your breath. Peeking over his shoulder, you flashed him a look of confusion. "Where's John?" 

"Still on the phone with Joseph. I think he'll be needed this afternoon."

He glanced down to your bag before nodding to it, asking a silent question. His eyebrows raised.

"I'm heading home anyway," you told him. 

"From your unofficial coffee date," he teased. When you didn't return with an answer, he continued. "I noticed there wasn't a car out front. You need a lift?" 

You mulled that over. Your choices were limited, really. Especially with John being tied up with whatever was happening with his brother and the church. As you chewed on your lip, still deciding on an answer, Jacob stepped forward and snatched the bag off your shoulder. 

"C'mon then darlin'. Better tell the boss we're leaving."


	9. Chapter 9

"So tell me, Deputy.. how long have you been on the force?"

"Not long," you answered quickly, still forcing your attention to the road ahead. Jacob cocked his head to the side and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. A familiar tune hummed from the speakers. Peeking through your lashes, you caught a hint of a smirk on his lips. "What is it?" 

"Hm?" 

"Is there something you'd like to say?" you repeated, shifting in the passenger seat. You turned towards him and allowed yourself to assess his features. There was a familiarity among the brothers, you realized, but his effortless confidence in particular was notable.

"We've never met before today."

Your brows furrowed as you waited for him to continue. When he paused, you raised an eyebrow and replied with a quick, "Okay".

Jacob glanced between the road and your questioning stare. "I'm just saying - we've never met before. I sure as hell know who you are though, and I'm guessing the same for you."

Eyes narrowing, you folded your arms over your chest impatiently. As he rounded the bend to your hidden driveway, you finally caved. "Okay… and your point?" 

"My point," he added, slowing the truck once he found the cabin. His hand clutched the gear shifter casually as he threw it into park and leaned his head to the back of the seat, turning his face to yours. Mischief sparkled in his vibrant blue eyes. "Is that you don't know a thing about me, but I somehow make you nervous."

"I.." you blinked, taken off guard by his assumption. "That's a bold statement."

"Maybe so. All I know is you're having _coffee dates_ with my brother, which means you can't very well be the quiet type. Yet," he paused, pursing his lips as he waved a hand lazily between you. "Here we are."

"I guess I have to get to know a person before I get chatty."

"Noted," Jacob nodded and turned, reaching for the door handle. He allowed himself to slide out onto the dirt path, all the while keeping his gaze fixed to you. 

As he made his way to the front of the truck, you took the opportunity to happily leap from the truck yourself. To say you were eager to escape the awkward tension, was an understatement.

"Thank you for the ride."

"Anytime," he assured you, leading the way to your cabin.

Frowning, you followed behind, wondering if this family was old fashioned or simply not aware of the meaning of "personal space". 

You both walked in silence over the knoll to the cabin - Jacob with long slow strides and yours, much quicker. A few paces ahead, Jacob scanned the perimeter. His attention seemed particularly drawn to the thick patch of cedars to the left of the property.

"Thanks again," you told him, trying to bring his attention back. His pace had slowed as you approached the front stairs, leading up to the less than sturdy deck.

"I remember this place," he spoke, still looking off into the woods. "There's a lake nearby. Small one."

Your curiosity peaked as he leaned over the railing with his palms flattened to the wood. Gaze roaming up the length of his legs, you replied. "I haven't been off the property yet. I suppose I should go for a walk one of these days."

Jacob nodded. His fingers grasped at the wood one last time before sauntered back to where you stood. His steps were slow and deliberate. Stopping inches away, he placed a hand on the door and leaned in. 

"Suppose you should. There's nothing like being in these woods alone," he rasped. "Not a soul out here. You could do just about anything you wanted without anyone seein'."

A lump formed in your throat as you hung on his words. The way his hushed tone sent a shiver through your body had you cursing yourself. 

"Thanks for walking me home," you repeated, pulling your keys from their safe spot in your back pocket. It took a moment for him to drop his hand but as soon as it did, you slid past him into the house. Inside the entrance, you turned to see him raise his eyebrows. "I'll be seeing you around."

"No doubt," he agreed, taking a step back. 

As you closed the door, the sound of throaty laughter drowned out the sound of his boots as he walked away. 

\--- 

"Have a nice vacation, dear," Nancy said with a warm smile. She took the stack of files from your hands as you removed your coat from a nearby hook.

"Thank you, I'm really looking forward to it."

The older woman smiled, picking up her cup of tea once the files were placed in her top drawer. "Plans?" 

You thought for a moment, realizing there were none, and shook your head. 

"Ah, well those are just the best ones, aren't they?" she paused and raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Perhaps a visit with John Seed?"

"Uh, no," you replied slowly, realizing Nancy was now privy to your personal life. Leaning over her desk, you whispered in fear the other deputies would overhear. "How do you know that?" 

She set her tea cup back to the desk, and held up a palm as if to reassure you. "Your secret is safe with me. Trust me, I wouldn't want half the county knowing my business either. Especially this office."

Nancy patted a hand to yours as you straightened and smiled. "Thank you. We're only friends, but I know people talk."

"That they do," she agreed. "Well, you go and have a nice week."

You thanked her again and headed outside, happy for the fresh air. Today, you had planned on leaving the car behind in the parking lot as you walked to the nearby shop to pick up groceries. It would give you an excuse to enjoy the sun and kill some time in the process. 

As you tossed your lunch bag and coat into the trunk, a horn beeped behind you. Deciding it wasn't your concern, you took the time to strip your uniform shirt off and toss that aside too, leaving you with the comfortable tank top you wore underneath. 

You closed the trunk and checked the doors to ensure they were still locked before tossing the keys back into your bag. Relaxed already, you began your walk out of the parking lot.

It wasn't until you heard a door slam behind you and the forced sound of a throat clearing, that you decided to turn around. There, John leaned against his car, with its immaculate paint glistening in the sun. He patted the driver's side door. "Lift?" 

You laughed at the absurdity of it. Waving a hand back to the car, you scoffed. "Are your eyes failing you?" 

"You were walking away from your car, were you not?" 

"I'm going shopping," you told him, finally moving to meet him. You raised an eyebrow at the mischievous smirk that met the twinkle in his eyes. "It's not Friday. You're not following me, are you? Cause from here, that's what it looks like."

John stepped forward, pushing himself from the car and placed a finger under your chin. Dipping his face to yours, he spoke just above a whisper. "Would you care if I was?" 

Lips parting, you felt yourself lean into his touch as if the very air around him was pulling you forward. As you drank in the same familiar scent of cologne and the hunger in his gaze, you realized you missed him, though it had only been a few days.

"John..."

"Yes?" he asked hopefully. 

Something about the way the word lingered on his lips snapped you back to your surroundings. 

"I have to go," you told him quickly, pulling yourself from his grasp. You glanced around, hopeful no one had been watching. 

"Oh come now," he glanced over his shoulder as he followed you back to your car. As you searched for your keys, he placed a palm to the window of the driver's side door, watching you with amusement pulling at the corners of his lips. "Don't let me scare you off."

"You're not," you told him, still digging in your bag for the keys you realized were now lost in the mess of it. 

"What are you afraid of?" 

You stopped, finally feeling the steel against your fingertips and turned to him, hardly comprehending his confusion. "I'm afraid my co-workers will see me in the god damned parking lot with a man who has a police file two inches thick."

"And Jacob's?" John hissed. 

"He… I don't know," you confessed. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

John scowled and his chest rose heavily with each new breath. "You didn't care about all of this before."

"No," you agreed. "But there's just so much chatter. I can't help but listen I guess." 

"You think I care about any of that? It's hearsay.. the damning thoughts of a few feeble minds," John argued. He ducked his chin to ensure your eyes met before he continued. "You're a smart woman, smarter than any of these clowns. Perhaps it's time you make your own judgement, deputy."

With that, he pulled his hand back and marched to his car without a second glance.


End file.
